Mythos & Marginalia

life notes; flaws and all

j.g. lewis

original content and images ©j.g. lewis

a daily breath...

A thought du jour, my daily breath includes collected and conceived observations, questions of life, fortune cookie philosophies, reminders, messages of peace and simplicity, unsolicited advice, inspirations, quotes and words that got me thinking. They may get you thinking too . . .



You wander.
We all do.

Uncertainty can often
blur your surroundings.


The map is always there,
the lines signify the path
you need to follow.

You simply have to find
the direction.

It is all in your hands.

© 2017 j.g. lewis



               Anguish or confusion, 
        sometimes it is the way. 
      Anxiety takes over. 
        What else can you say  
     as you try to put aside all 
     the feelings that dog you 
   anyway.    No pain today.  
           Try as you might to
    see your way through. 
       No pain.    Not today. 

09/14/2023                                                               j.g.l.

Mondays are just young Fridays

There is very little that can be said about Eric Clapton that hasn’t already been said; except I saw him last night. 
    I’ve been listening to the musician, in all stages of his career, over the past five decades and he has been around even longer than that. 
    Through the years I’ve grown to appreciate Clapton more as a performer, recording artist, and as one of the greatest guitarists of all time, but I’ve never seen him live;  until last night. 
    He was everything (and more) that I expected, playing selections from his lengthy career, and paying homage not only the blues artists who have influenced him but also to friends no longer with us. 
    Clapton and his band kicked of the Toronto concert with a cover of The Band’s The Shape I’m in, a fitting tribute to his longtime Canadian friend Robbie Robertson. Then, later, a tune he once recorded with Tina Turner: Tearing Us Apart
    The show was filled with both popular hits and selections you could tell he felt like playing. With a catalogue like Clapton’s there could have been even more hits, but he did what he had to do.
    At age 79, Clapton’s seemingly effortless prowess on electric and acoustic guitar was both mature and effective. There were a lot of “wow” moments.
    It was quite an evening. 
    What else can I say? 

09/11/2023                                                                                   j.g.l.

I'm like a pencil;
sometimes sharp,
most days
other times
dull or
Still I write.

j.g. lewis
is a writer/photographer in Toronto.

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Mondays are just young Fridays

Posted on August 31, 2020 by j.g.lewis Leave a comment

Thirty-one days ago I made a decision to try and alter, or disrupt, or shift myself away from a rather depressing track that had been building over the past months.
All of this pandemic stuff, and the negative news surrounding the state of this planet, was weighing heavily on my psyche.
I needed a major attitude adjustment.
When I thought about what I could do, I began to think about what made me happy. Don’t we all, at our core, just want to be happy?
So, I decided to immerse myself in art for the month of August as a means of welcoming familiar joy back in my life.
Art makes me happy.
There was no official plan, but rather the will to re-familiarize myself with my camera, refocus my writing, and reacquaint myself with my paints. I had also selected a number of books to reinvigorate my sense of art, or of self.
I chose to use the word “immersion” rather than challenge, because this was not a test as much as an observation (life already has too many challenges). It meant paying more attention to what I do, or how I create, or the process of my process.
So, each morning, as soon as I woke I would write for half an hour (at least). I then set out, usually with my camera, and continued the practice of a morning walk that had become a habit since COVID-19 set in.
Over the month I went to the gallery weekly, and I thought more about art. I read more about art and I simply did more art.
It was a conscious decision to make it matter. It was a conscious effort to avoid the news and to involve myself, in a deeper way, in my own life.
It was a conscious effort to be happy.
One of the most satisfying projects I involved myself with each week was that of what I now call “mindful non-judgmental painting” where I would climb on my bike and take my paint box down to the lakeshore and simply paint.
Each session I would sit at a now-familiar picnic bench, look out at the now-familiar scene, and paint more what I felt than what I saw.
I will, today, do the same thing. It makes me happy.
At the time of this writing, it is still to early, and to dark, to see if there will be clouds, but today I feel like painting clouds.
But really it doesn’t matter to me if I paint clouds, or a tree, or the lake and sky and Toronto Island off in the distance.
What matters to me, today, is that I paint.
What matters is that I create.
It matters to me.
Art matters.
It is a process.
Repetition is part of that process.
The focus this entire month has been on art; not on the results but on the reason. I have many paintings and poems that are still not complete (some may never get to that state) but that does not matter.
It matters only that I tried, or had the patience to try.
It’s probably still to early to see if this month-long immersion has had the desired effect, but I’ve got the patience to see if it has, indeed, worked.
Happiness is a process.
Patience, above all else, is the most important part of the process.

08/31/2020                                            j.g.l.

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